Goddammit Mr Flower Man
by Braveandthebold
Summary: Flower shop AU. They meet, they flirt (or not in Phil's opinion), but then what?
1. Goddammit Mr Flower Man

Phil Coulson's life is not some cheesy love-story.

As much as he's a sucker for anything romance-related, and yes his friends have called him a bit of a sap, his life is the complete opposite. There's no running after his long-lost lover or any kissing in the rain or any of _that_.

He's had a few boyfriends, none of them lasting very long though. He had one good long-lasting relationship, but even that fell through when he caught the guy cheating on him with a younger, more handsome looking guy. This only further brought down Phil's confidence in true love and the idea that he would ever live up to another man's standards.

So he's basically avoided relationships like the plague, because he's just accepted the fact that he'll never be good enough for anyone. And no matter how much Natasha hounds and annoys him and refuses to listen to Phil when he's clearly stated he does NOT want to be set up, she never listens.

Therefore this is all Nat's fault. All of it. He should fire her before it's too late and she destroys his beautiful flower shop and kills him in his sleep (they've been friends for years, but Phil's still convinced she's a secret agent of some sort).

It's Nat's fault then, when a guy with biceps sculpted by the graces of Heaven above comes striding into his store. It's Nat's fault, when he bends down to look at a price tag and his back muscles flex and his all too tight t-shirt stretches a little too much. _It's Nat's fault_, when he walks right up to the cash register and looks straight at Phil and he blushes because damn. This guy is _hot_.

"Hey, um, is Natasha Romanoff in today? She said she'd be here…?" He stretches that last sentence out and rubs the back of his neck which only further reveals his nicely toned arms. God those are great arms.

Phil clears his throat to regain his composure because stop it Phil, you're being creepy and there's a customer in the store. "Yes, she is in today actually. But she got called out to handle a last minute delivery so she won't back until about 1ish?"

The guy flips open his cell phone and nods. "Okay, so like in about 10 minutes maybe?"

Shit. 10 minutes is way too long. He can't handle this guy in his store for more than 10 minutes, let alone 5 seconds.

"Of course," Phil almost chokes out. "You're welcome to wait. There's also a cafe right across the street if that's more comfortable for you."

Sexy-Arms (that's the only sensible name Phil's mind has come up with) looks up and smiles. "No problem. I can just wait here. Knowing Tasha she won't be that long."

He spins around and goes to inspect the other flowers in the shop. When he's out of earshot Phil exhales deeply and quickly whips out his cell phone.

She sounds a little distracted when she picks up. "Lo?"

"Natasha where are you?" Phil hisses. He makes sure to angle his back away from Sexy Arms.

"In a ditch. Lotta dead bodies here. Why?"

"Not funny. No but seriously where are you?"

He hears a grunt and a car door slam. "Relax Philip, I'm on my way back now."

"And how long do you think it'll take?" He twists his head just slightly to see Sexy Arms strolling lazily around the store. He looks bored, but Phil did suggest he could wait at the cafe.

"With my driving skills, probably 8 minutes," Nat replies. He hears the car engine rev up and the clicking of her seat belt. "Why?"

"Because your uh, friend, is here."

"Clint?" Alas, he has a name.

"Uh, yeah. That one."

"Make that 6 minutes."

* * *

><p>Nat, true to her word, does actually arrive in 6 minutes without so much as a speeding ticket. She quietly slips through the back door and is at Phil's side before he notices.<p>

"Tasha!" Clint throws his arms out.

Nat smiles softly and walks into the welcoming embrace. In all their years of friendship, Phil hasn't seen Nat this relaxed in a long time. She slips into the hug easily and doesn't tense up when Clint wraps his arms around her. And this is the first he's heard of 'Tasha.' There is definitely a story behind all that.

"It's good to see you," Natasha says when she pulls away.

Clint grins widely and ruffles her hair. Phil has also never seen _that_ before either.

"Oh Clint," Natasha smiles like she's got a secret. "This is my good friend, _Phil_. Phil, this is _Clint_."

"What are you—" Phil says half-way before getting elbowed in the ribs. "Clint!" He violently coughs out. "Yes, we met earlier."

Clint gives him an amused look and sticks a hand out. "Yes, we did."

Phil grasps his hand and wow. That is some grip.

Clint laughs and grips his hand tighter. "Yeah, I do archery. Maybe I can show you sometime."

Phil blushes and ducks his head a little. Right. He should just.. try to keep his thoughts to himself. He sees Nat on the side smirking at him.

Oh they are so gonna have a talk about this.

* * *

><p>By the time Clint's out the door, arms and tight shirt and all, Phil glares at Natasha. She's standing there all smug by the peonies, cutting the leaves and acting like <em>this isn't her fault. <em>

"What?" She asks without shifting her attention.

"Care to tell me what that was all about?" Phil crosses his arms and puts on his 'Phil Coulson is mad at you' face.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She snips a leaf off and fluffs up the bunch of flowers.

"You know what I mean."

She turns her head and she's got that secretive smile again. "Clint's an old friend of mine, we go way back. He decided to move to New York and we're shacking up for a while until he can find his own place."

Phil goes completely red at that. Wouldn't 'shacking up' imply…?

Natasha rolls her eyes and points the scissors at him. "You my friend, have a very dirty mind."

He coughs in order to cover up his blush. "Then don't use phrases like that in my shop Romanoff."

"Or you could shack up with him instead." He stumbles into one of the flower pots and glares back at her.

She shrugs. "I mean from the way you were making goo-goo heart eyes at his arms—"

"_Stop_."

She barks out a laugh at his fumbling and starts singing "Phil and Cli~int sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes loooove~!"

* * *

><p>Phil pushes his way past the door and is greeted with the wonderful smell of coffee and baked goods. He breathes in deeply and can almost taste its smell.<p>

"Coulson!"

He smiles and waves back at the barista. "Hey Bucky."

Bucky takes a cup out and starts writing Phil's name on it. "The usual?"

"The usual." He loves being a regular here. The R&B Cafe is right across from the flower shop, meaning Phil doesn't have to walk five blocks and wait 15 minutes in line just to get a coffee from Starbucks.

The place is owned by Natasha's friend Bucky and his boyfriend Steve. It used to be this beat up toy store, but then it went under and Bucky managed to pull it back up again and turn it into a cafe. Phil was a bit skeptical upon coming in, as he's been a loyal Starbucks customer for years. But then he took one sip of the coffee and was instantly sold. The food was simply orgasmic, so Phil's been coming back ever since. The discount for being a regular helps too.

As usual the place is bustling with people and slow indie music. There's businessmen, lawyers, and those hipster teenagers with the weird piercings and haircuts. It definitely beats out the crowd at Starbucks. The cafe's kind of been in a competition with Starbucks, owned by a mysterious Nick Fury who's apparently ruthless on his employees and works them to the bone. Bucky and Steve do just fine on their own though, and they've got a couple part-time college students helping out.

"Phil? Your drink's ready!" Steve calls out. He hands the coffee over to a very grateful Phil.

"As usual, you never fail to disappoint," Phil murmurs and sighs in contentment. He closes his eyes and relishes in the smell of freshly brewed coffee beans.

Steve chuckles. "Only serve the best for our best customers." Bucky comes up beside him and kisses Steve on the cheek.

Phil can feel his stomach squirm a little. He's almost jealous at the natural way Bucky and Steve just seem to fit. They're always in synch, working around each other and moving with such elegant grace. Their love is so real and sappy and it reminds Phil again how depressing his own love life is.

He's about to drown his sorrows in coffee when his eyes bug out at the sight of Clint Barton not two feet away.

He's in a leather jacket which, unfortunately, covers up his arms and no Phil is _not_ disappointed. The jeans he's wearing totally makes up for it though, cause it makes his ass look fantastic and Phil subconsciously licks his lips.

Of course Clint chooses that moment to look over and Phil almost spills all his coffee.

"Hey! Phil, right?"

"And you're.. Clint?" He wipes his mouth. Obviously Phil knows his name, he's been obsessing over it for the past day. He'd just rather be casual instead of super creepy.

Clint does a mini bow and flourish of his arm. "At your service."

Phil looks him up and down in amusement. "If you tell me you're an exotic dancer or something I might just leave."

Clint looks scandalized and places a hand on his chest. "Excuse me sir, I will have you know I am an _excellent_ dancer thank you very much."

Phil snorts at the faux-British accent. "Don't tell me you're British too."

"On the contrary." Clint makes sure to really over-sell the accent which has Phil laughing and covering his mouth. Spitting coffee everywhere isn't very attractive.

"Barton! Stop fraternizing with my customers!" Bucky's voice bellows out.

"Barnes! Just make me my damn coffee!" Clint shouts back.

Steve winces. "Dear, inside voices please."

Phil laughs at the whole spectacle and Clint smiles over at him. "I forgot how loud it can get in here."

"What can I say? I'm a naturally loud person." Clint waggles his eyebrows and somehow Phil interprets a whole different meaning behind those words.

He blushes and tries to find the right words, something funny to impress Clint. Thankfully Bucky cuts in just in time to hand over Clint's coffee and exchange a couple quips.

He hears Steve sigh and look fondly at the two men. "Bucky won't admit it, but he's missed Clint a ton."

Phil pretty much got that due to mutual connections and the friendly back-and-forth ribbing. Again, he can feel that jealousy rising in his stomach. There isn't even a reason to be jealous, Bucky is with Steve. Maybe it's the ease and flow of the conversation between them, how friendly and intimate they are.

"Hey, I gotta go now. It's almost opening time," Phil indicates by tapping his watch.

Steve turns around as if to grab something, then throws a bag of Madeleines in Phil's direction. He catches it with ease, and at Phil's questioning look Steve shrugs and says, "For Natasha. We just started making them, figured she should get first dibs."

Phil nods and waves the bag. He doesn't bother waving at Bucky who's _still_ chatting. Clint… no point there.

He makes his way out of the store and sighs. No time to be depressed, he's got a business to run after all.

* * *

><p>The bell by the door dings and Phil glances up at the clock. He's still got five minutes. "Uh, excuse me sir but we're not really opening yet!" When he doesn't get a response he quickly slips on his apron. Well, might as well open now. It's almost eight anyways.<p>

He ducks under a particularly large hydrangea and freezes.

"Hey." Clint gives an awkward half-wave.

"H-hey," Phil stutters out in surprise. He definitely wasn't expecting Clint to be _here_ of all places.

"So, fancy seeing you again."

"Yes. Uh.. fancy. Seeing you, I mean." Wasn't he talking to Clint just five minutes ago? Why is it that now he's all tongue-tied?

"You left pretty fast," Clint says and pokes one of the mums a little dejectedly.

"Huh?" Phil looks up from smoothing down his apron. "Oh! Uh, yeah. Needed to open up."

Clint nods as he pokes another one of the flowers.

"Do you like those?" Phil asks and walks up next to Clint.

Clint jumps back a little and has this shy look on his face. "Um, yeah. Gardenias, right?"

"Mhmm." Phil carefully takes one in his hands and smiles. His fingers brush lightly over the petals. "I believe they mean a 'secret love,' or 'you are lovely.' Something along those lines." He glances over and Clint's face has gone quite red.

"You—" Clint starts to say but pauses, and after some reconsideration closes his mouth. He shakes his head and his face is back to normal again.

Phil furrows his brow and is about to ask if he's okay when the bell chimes.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me look for something? It's my granddaughter's birthday tomorrow," an old lady says.

"Certainly! I'll be right there!" Phil slides past Clint and goes over to help her. And no he does not freak out when their shoulders brush and he can feel his cheeks grow hot.

By the time he's done Clint's nowhere to be found in the shop. Phil tries not to let the disappointment get to him.

"He left five minutes ago," Natasha says while trimming the thorns off some roses.

"I didn't ask."

"You didn't have to."

Phil purses his lips and decides to sort out the money in the register instead.

* * *

><p>By some miracle Clint is back in the shop next day with two coffees in hand, the unease from yesterday totally gone from his face.<p>

"If those are from Starbucks I'm kicking you out."

Clint makes a face at that. "Seriously? What kind of man do you take me for?"

"Um, how about a dancing British dude?"

Clint snorts and holds out the coffee to him.

Phil sets the bag of fertilizer down and dusts off his hands. He accepts the coffee and inspects the cup's logo. R&B Cafe. "So looks like you've passed the test."

Clint smirks and knocks Phil's shoulder. "Have a little more faith in me man."

He takes a sip of his coffee and pretends like his heart didn't just skip a beat. It was a friendly gesture, nothing more than that. He's not sure why his mind is jumping to conclusions or anything.

"New flowers?" Clint jerks his head towards a bunch of purple heathers.

"They're heathers," Phil replies and picks one up. "Heathers come in different colors, which are used to symbolize different meanings. Purple means beauty and admiration. Pink means good luck. I think white is supposed to be protection or something." He twirls it around and oh god he sounds like such a nerd right now. Who in their right mind wants to hear about flowers? Much less a really really _really_ hot guy?

He's about to apologize for his extreme nerdiness but Clint isn't bored or disgusted by it at all. In fact, he looks impressed.

"Beauty and admiration huh?" Clint repeats from his explanation. He looks thoughtfully at the heathers. "That's a nice meaning."

"Y-yeah, it is." Phil bends down to put it back in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. Also his growing excitement because Clint was _totally impressed. _He says a silent prayer to the botany gods.

"Are you boys done flirting over there?" Natasha's leaning against the counter with a smirk across her face.

Phil tenses up and pretends to adjust a nearby pot of flowers. He can feel Natasha's eyes on him and he wants so desperately to throw the pot at her. He avoids Clint's gaze because all it'll take is one look. One look and Phil's secret obsession over Clint will be out.

He does sneak a peak though, and surprisingly enough Clint seems just as uncomfortable.

"S-shut up Tasha," Clint mumbles. His eyes meet Phil's who glances away very quickly. "And besides, I don't flirt with just _anyone_."

Phil's shoulders hitch up at that. Is Clint suggesting what he thinks he's suggesting? No, no that's not possible because this is Clint and he's just _Phil. _

His eyes suddenly land on the heathers and one thought leads to another and okay this is an extremely bad idea. But Natasha always said he was too big of a scaredy cat, so maybe it's time to prove her wrong. Maybe he should just… go for it?

He stands up and pushes the heathers into Clint's chest. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. "H-here! S-since you seemed to.. li-ike them!" He steels himself for the rejection, for the weirded out look he'll probably find on Clint's face.

His breath catches in his throat when he feels Clint's hands touch his. He slowly opens his eyes and sees Clint staring at the flowers with this unreadable expression.

"These are… for me?" Clint asks. He blinks a couple times and touches them.

Phil nods jerkily. He really wishes it was _his_ hands Clint was touching. He draws his hand back and balls it up into a tight fist. "Free of charge, of course."

"Woah, wait man you serious?"

"Of course I am. Don't make me say it again," he says stubbornly.

Clint doesn't say anything for a while. He bites his lip and it looks like he's on the verge of a smile.

"Thank you," he says finally.

Phil feels like the wind was just knocked right out of his chest.

* * *

><p>"Oh my god!" Natasha squeals, if that's humanly possible, once Clint's gone. "You totally just flirted. You just flirted with Clint using… flowers!" She throws her hands up. "Genius, absolutely <em>genius<em>."

Phil tries to keep his face neutral because she's right. He did just flirt with Clint Barton using flowers and he doesn't know how to react to that.

"I swear to god Phil, I swear to god you could win any woman or man's heart with that move."

"Uh-huh. So are you going to wrap those up or not?" He points to the flowers on the countertop.

Natasha does a dorky salute. "On it boss!"

* * *

><p>To Phil's delight, Clint does continue stopping by the store.<p>

He mainly just chats with Natasha and delivers coffee to Phil which he can't help interpreting as something more than a friendly gesture. But it can only really be a friendly gesture because Clint doesn't bring up the heathers incident.

Which is fine. It's whatever. Phil just put his whole heart and soul into doing that but seriously it's whatever. As long as he gets his daily dose of arm sex, he's fine.

"I can hear you _thinking_ from over here."

"_Shut up, _Natasha_."_

* * *

><p>Clint comes in three days later with coffee and the new addition of danishes.<p>

"Wow, I'm in for a real treat today," Phil says and eagerly accepts the danish.

Clint hums in response and takes a sip of his coffee. He seems kind of jittery and on edge today, but Phil just brushes it off as a caffeine high. Nat did mention he was something of a coffee addict. Thankfully she's out on a delivery right now.

"So, you need something?" Phil says around his danish.

Clint jolts at the question. "Uh, yeah. My uh, my sister." He scratches his cheek and looks anywhere but Phil. Strange. And he _still _hasn't mentioned anything about the heathers yet. But seriously, Phil's _fine._

"Well, technically my sister's boyfriend. He uh, he's not sure what to get her. For her birthday. I suggested flowers, and well.. seeing as how it was my idea, I am now tasked with getting the flowers."

Phil's face softens out because an awkward Clint is actually very adorable. "What did you have in mind?"

"Um, not sure. I don't speak flowers. So." He does finally look at Phil, but it's broken all too soon and he starts swinging his arms back and forth. "So, what do you think Mr. Flower Man?"

Phil tries not to stare too long because his arms are… flexing… a lot. He shakes his head and stuffs the rest of the danish into his mouth.

"Hey, you got some icing on your—" Clint gestures to his mouth.

Phil blushes furiously because way to go Phil, that was definitely not attractive. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve but Clint shakes his head.

"Nope, still there. Here it's right—" Clint reaches over and swipes his thumb over Phil's lips. Phil stares wide-eyed at Clint, his eyes never leaving the other's face.

Finally Clint pulls back and sucks his thumb, making Phil blush even harder. "There, all gone."

Phil doesn't realize he's holding his breath until he lets it out. His heart won't calm down now and he's pretty sure his face is like, extremely red. "Uh-huh, all gone." He blinks rapidly out of his reverie and beats himself internally. Come on Phil, you have a job to do stop staring this is not the time.

He starts searching around the shop for flowers that basically scream 'I love you.' He spies a bouquet of roses near the back and cringes a little. "Okay, now I don't wanna seem too cliche here but roses are always a safe bet. You can't really go wrong with those."

Clint furrows his brow and bites his lip. How he manages to make that sexy Phil will never understand.

"Actually, I was thinking maybe carnations. Red carnations."

"Carnations huh?" Phil hums and starts searching for them. He finds them by a group of cactus flowers and holds them out to Clint. "These good?"

Clint nods excitedly, like a puppy almost. "Yes, those are perfect."

Phil starts wrapping them up and trims off a few bad leaves. He's almost done when Clint's words break through his thoughts.

"My heart aches for you."

Phil fumbles with the scissors and stills his whole body. "W-what?" He breathes out.

"My heart aches for you," Clint repeats with a wide smile. "That's the meaning of carnations, right?"

Oh. _Oh. OH_. He was talking about… carnations. Right. Geez Phil, get your mind out of the gutter because he obviously wasn't referring to you.

He laughs nervously. It's best to change topics now. "R-right. Red carnations, a perfect gift for your sister. I'm sure she'll love them."

"Uh-huh." Clint's still smiling as he accepts the carnations. "I think she'll really love them."

For some reason it feels like they aren't talking about his sister anymore.

* * *

><p>A whole week has passed until Clint shows up again. Phil can't help the anticipation bubbling in his chest when he sees Clint because a week is way too long. And it might just be his imagination but his arms look more toned than ever.<p>

"Hey Clint, you been doing somer archery lately?" Natasha asks and smirks in Phil's direction.

Phil narrows his eyes at her, but not today. He is not doing this not today because Clint is here. He will not let Natasha embarrass him in front of Clint.

"Yeah, sorta," Clint says. He hands a cup of coffee over to Phil and yes, yes he can just make out from this angle how nicely toned his arms are.

He can already feel the heat rising in his face so he clears his throat and puts on his best professional smile. "Hey Clint, good seeing you again. Did your sister like the carnations?"

"What?" And then realization crosses his face. "Oh, yeah! Right! She uh, she loved them. Really great, thanks for that by the way. Actually!" He claps his hands together and suddenly changes topics. "I was wondering if you could help me look for daffodils."

"Daffodils?" Phil repeats as he takes a sip of his coffee.

"Yes, daffodils."

"Is this another request from your sister's boyfriend?"

"Uh, no. This is for my, um, grandma. A little appreciation gift if you know what I mean?" Somehow that seems like a very weak explanation.

"Oh god," Natasha mutters and heads for the back room. "You deal with this utter fuckery Phil."

He watches her stalk away and jumps as the door slams shut. "Uh." He looks at Clint. "Do you know what that was all about?"

"Nope, no idea! So, daffodils?"

"Um. Right." Phil points to the daffodils by the window. "Are those okay? They're kinda old, and we haven't got a new shipment yet so they may die off soon."

"Nah man, don't worry about it they're great." Clint strides over and picks a few out. Phil decides to leave him be while he waters the nearby bonsai tree. Yes he realizes this is a flower shop, but he feels like it adds some character to the place. It gives off a very zen atmosphere and he's considering getting a buddha too.

"You're the only one for me."

"_Excuse me_?" Phil's hands slip around the watering can, but he strengthens his grip just in time only to have some water slosh out the side.

"Isn't that the meaning of daffodils?"

Phil hugs the watering can to his chest and stares down at the water inside. Clint just keeps going though.

"I mean, my grandma will be _really_ happy to know how much I appreciate her. She's all alone, has been for some years now. Someone needs to be there for her, you know?"

Phil still hasn't said anything and Clint is becoming visibly anxious.

"Phil?"

"Hmm?" He lifts his head up. "Oh, right. Yes, daffodils. They're usually given to someone very precious to you. I think your grandma will love them."

Clint nods slowly. "Yeah. Yeah I agree." He bites his lip and shifts from foot to foot. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"That'll be $6.50." Phil presses a couple buttons on the register and waits for Clint to hand over the money.

Clint stares for a moment, then takes out a couple bills and coins and presses them into Phil's palm. His hand lingers for a moment, but he draws it back and walks out the door with his daffodils without saying another word.

Phil drops his head onto the counter and releases a shuddering breath. He doesn't even bother with the now-cold coffee.

Oh god, what the hell?

* * *

><p>The third time. The third time is the last straw because Phil's heart feels like it's gonna be ripped out of his chest and he really can't take this anymore.<p>

Clint comes in that weekend and doesn't really make eye contact or greet Phil. Not even an offer of coffee. He says a quiet hello to Natasha, but other than that he doesn't say much.

Phil eyes him warily as he makes his away around the shop. He finally stops in front of some primroses and looks right into Phil's eyes.

"I can't live without you—"

Phil slams his fists against the wall, creating a deafening silence in the shop. Nat looks nervously between the two men.

"Enough," Phil says in a dangerously low voice. "That is… quite enough, Clint."

"Phil. What—"

"Are you making fun of me?"

Clint's eyes widen and the color drains from his face. "What?! No, Phil I—"

"Because it's not funny anymore. This is about the heathers, isn't it? And because of that now you think it's funny, don't you? Spouting shitty flower meanings at me? Well guess what Clint? It worked! I hope you're happy!" Phil turns to walk away but Clint grabs his arm and holds on tight.

"Phil. This not me making fun of you—"

"_REALLY?!" _Phil spins around and shoves Clint away, who stumbles back and bangs his head against a hanging flower pot. "_REALLY CLINT?! BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT IT SEEMS LIKE!"_

He scrubs a hand over his face and covers his eyes. "Do you know.. how much courage it took for me to do that? Do you know?" He asks in a cracked voice. "Because I don't think you do. If this is your idea of a joke then well done Clint, well done." Phil staggers backwards and walks out the back door as quickly as possible.

* * *

><p>Natasha finds him sitting on the back stoop by the dumpsters. She sits down next to him and holds his hand.<p>

"Thanks," Phil sniffs and rubs forcefully at the tears threatening to spill.

"Phil, you know Clint wasn't trying to make you upset right?" She asks quietly.

Phil scoffs and wraps his one arm around his knees. He brings his head down and sighs from the emotional exhaustion. And it's not even 12 pm yet.

"Or does this have to do with something else?"

"Meaning?"

"Are you scared of getting close to Clint?"

The question makes Phil peak his eyes out. "I don't understand."

Natasha sighs and rubs her thumb over Phil's hand. "Phil, ever since Evan you've been so reluctant to get close to anyone. You closed yourself up, and as a result you've forgotten how to really love someone. Every time something good happens, you push it away because you're afraid of something bad happening. And that's stupid because bad things will always happen."

Phil snorts and tries not to let her words get to him, even though he knows deep down she's right. "And what do you expect me to do about those bad things then?"

"You deal with them, Phil. It's true that happiness doesn't last forever, but it's up to us to fight for that happiness and make it last as long as humanly possible." She stands up and squeezes his shoulder. "Think about it."

* * *

><p>Clint's stopped coming to the store since then. Phil doesn't know whether to be relieved or upset because he's just a whole mess of emotions right now.<p>

He won't deny that he misses Clint, because he does miss him and his dorkiness and when he brings him coffee from R&B's.

Phil sighs and looks longingly at the door. He's being stupid. Of course Clint isn't coming, Phil had made that very very clear the last time.

Natasha pats his shoulder as she makes her way past.

* * *

><p>"Thank you so much," Phil says to the delivery man. He signs off on the papers while Natasha brings in the last box of flowers.<p>

He shuts the door and lets his shoulders sag a little. It's been a very long week of wedding arrangements, party arrangements, corsages and boutonnieres and everything else in between. It's good because work distracts him from things like a certain archer who still hasn't come by yet.

"Where do you want these boss?" Natasha asks.

"Just put them somewhere for now and we'll sort them out later," Phil says to the door. He's about to turn around when he sees something purple poking out of a box. "Hey Natasha, what are those? I don't remember ordering them."

"That's because I did," she huffs as she stacks up the empty boxes. "A woman called, last minute order for heathers."

Phil feels his jaw go slack. Purple heathers. The thing that started this whole mess in the first place. He slowly walks over and crouches near them.

"Beautiful aren't they?" He says wistfully.

Natasha gives a small smile and nods. She silently slips out the back and leaves him to his thoughts.

His fingers ghost over the petals, afraid he'll destroy them with just one touch. Just like everything else in his life. "Yes, very beautiful indeed."

* * *

><p>"Do you really think I'm afraid of Clint?" Phil blurts out one morning.<p>

Natasha stops sorting out the bills by the register and frowns at him.

"Because what you said, it—you were right. About me. I know I'm afraid to get close to people, and what me and Clint had it was.. it was good. And of course I got scared, I panicked, and I took his actions the wrong way and I'm not sure how to.. get that back," Phil finishes lamely.

"Oh, Phil." Natasha reaches up to hug him. Phil clings to her and sobs into her shoulder. He really truly did screw up something good. And now he doesn't know what to do because he sucks at this. He doesn't know how to fix this.

"He'll come around eventually. Give him some time."

* * *

><p>Phil groans into his coffee cup. He is such a horrible human being. Clint hasn't been in his shop in weeks, and it's very possible what they had is now long over.<p>

"Hey, cheer up man!" Bucky claps his shoulder with such force Phil almost falls right out of his chair. He scowls up at him but Bucky ignores it.

"Clint isn't the type to hold grudges."

"Bucky he hasn't been around in weeks. Pretty sure he's holding a grudge."

Steve takes the seat opposite from Phil and offers a snickerdoodle. Phil reluctantly takes it and nibbles around the edges.

"Like Nat said, he'll come around," Steve reassures. Screw Steve and his always sunny outlook on life. The world isn't always sunshine and rainbows.

"Hey, can I get a coffee and some danishes please?" A customer calls out.

Bucky turns to answer him but pauses and rolls his lips. "Sure, coming right up." He exchanges a glance with Steve, probably some stupid lovey-dovey secret talk that Phil is obviously not privy to. He's never gonna have that with Clint after all.

Steve rises from his seat to make the order.

"Don't lose hope man. You never know, people can surprise you," Bucky says a little too cryptically.

"Uh-huh," Phil answers glumly. Suddenly another cup of coffee and a danish is set down in front of him. "Hey I didn't order this—" The words die off his lips immediately and he goes silent.

"Hey," Clint greets softly. He's got his hands stuffed into his jeans, the jeans that make his ass look fantastic Phil thinks mournfully.

Bucky whistles and walks away, leaving the two of them alone.

"Um. Hey," Phil says awkwardly.

"So, we should talk." Clint sits down and rubs his hands together. "I should explain myself. Can I explain myself, if that's okay with you?"

"Um, sure?" Phil answers in a confused voice.

"Look, I wasn't—I didn't—I—" He makes a noise of frustration and buries his face in his hands. "Look, I like you. I've liked you for a really long time and I didn't know how to express that because I have such awful luck with guys and relationships in general and then you did that.. thing. With the gardenias. I knew right then how fucked I was and then the.. the heathers, man! I couldn't stop thinking about what you did, and it gave me this idea like hey! Maybe I should express myself in the language of flowers! Yeah and that turned out to be a great idea Clint, really great. Push away the guy I'm in love with."

"You're… in love with me?"

"Of course I am! I thought I made myself pretty obvious—" Clint brings his head up, and he can tell from the shock on Phil's face that he most certainly did not pick up on this.

"Wait, are you serious?" Phil blinks a couple times in order to process this through his head. Clint is.. in love. With him. Phil Coulson. Phil Coulson, who can't even get a single guy to look at him and here Clint Barton is, flustered and love-sick. Over Phil.

"I… I didn't know you felt that way."

"Well, yeah! What did you think I was doing?"

"Oh, I'm sorry! Contrary to popular belief I actually _did_ think you were making fun of me!"

"And why exactly would you think that?" Clint asks curiously.

"Well, because.. because.. I don't exactly, uh.. have the best luck with relationships… either…" His voice dies out towards the end and he averts his gaze. He sees Clint reach across the table and place a cautious hand on top of his.

"Hey, I get it. You don't have to force yourself, I understand. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable." Clint gives a gentle squeeze, stands up and is out the door in mere seconds.

Phil looks back at Steve and Bucky who make frantic gestures and point madly at the door. He doesn't even have time to react because he's running out of the cafe and trying to catch up with Clint. He sees him round a corner and speeds up his pace.

"Wait, Clint!"

He turns around and makes an _Oomf! _sound as Phil barrels right into him. "Phil—"

Phil cuts him off by reaching up on his tip-toes and smashing their lips together. At first Clint doesn't move, but then he wraps his arms around Phil's waist and deepens the kiss significantly. Phil makes a noise of surprise as he's backed up against a lamppost.

A couple people pass by and point and smile at them, but surprisingly Phil is totally okay with it. Because he's kissing Clint and Clint is kissing him and that's all that matters right now.

And then suddenly, just because life hates him, it starts pouring. This unfortunately makes them break the kiss.

Clint takes off his jacket and throws it on top of their heads. "Wow, didn't see that one coming!" He yells over the rain which only seems to grow heavier by the minute.

Phil throws his head back and laughs. "Just like a sappy romance movie!"

Clint laughs too, but then he's staring at Phil like he's the whole world and slowly leans in. Phil meets him half-way and their lips brush lightly. He feels Clint dig his fingers into Phil's hipbones and reel him in. Phil wraps his arms around Clint's neck and practically melts into the kiss.

And just like that, they end with a kiss in the rain like some stupid cheesy love-story.

* * *

><p><strong><em>*Epilogue, 1 Year Later*<em>**

"Clint!" Phil calls out from the kitchen. "Your ass better be dressed and ready to go! We're going to be late for Nat's!" To be honest, even Phil isn't completely ready. His tie is still loose and hanging around his neck, and he hasn't picked out a pair of shoes yet.

Phil buttons up his cuffs and straightens out his shirt collar. He takes a peak in the mirror and decides he doesn't look _too_ awful. He's wearing his glasses since his eyes decided to suck today, and his hair is neatly brushed back. He probably won't look good in comparison to Clint, but it's enough for Phil.

Clint finally steps out of the bedroom and stops upon seeing Phil. He watches Clint's reflection from the mirror and raises an eyebrow.

"Like what you see?"

"Holy shit, yeah," Clint breathes out. "Shit, you—you look gorgeous babe."

Phil blushes and distracts himself with his tie. Even after a year of this, he's still not used to the compliments. No one's ever stuck around this long and still throws out compliments like it's Christmas day.

"Here, let me." Clint steps up behind him so Phil's back is completely against his chest. He brings his hands around the front and starts doing Phil's tie. All the while, Clint stares intently at Phil's reflection and smirks when he brushes his fingers against Phil's neck and a blush rises.

"You look good babe," Clint murmurs into his ear and presses a light kiss against his cheek.

"T-thanks," Phil says shyly and ducks his head down.

"Hey, come on. Lemme see you." Clint hooks his finger under Phil's chin and lifts it up until their eyes meet in the mirror. "You look beautiful."

Alright now this _really_ isn't fair because Phil's the one getting all the compliments and blushing like some love-sick teenager.

"Y-you don't have to do that you know."

"Hmm? Do what?" Clint hums as he tightens the tie.

"Y-you know.. th-throw compliments out like that. It's fine, really."

Clint's fingers pause and Phil looks up. Suddenly Phil is spun around and backed up against the wall.

"C-Clint?"

"Don't ever say that again," Clint says with his forehead all scrunched up in worry. "Don't. I love you, and I'm allowed to throw out compliments whenever I want."

Phil sucks in a breath at Clint's scrutinizing gaze. His face is so earnest, he actually means it. He's never… no one's ever done this for him before.

"I-I love you too," Phil whispers.

Clint chuckles and leaves a lingering kiss on Phil's forehead. "I will always mean what I say when it comes to you, so please don't think I'm faking it."

Phil's been experiencing all sorts of firsts with Clint. He was never this happy or embarrassed with Evan. It just shows how much Phil actually cares about Clint, wants to hold onto him and that happiness for as long as possible.

Before he loses his nerve, he presses a quick kiss onto Clint's lips and buries his head into the crook of Clint's neck.

Clint blinks a few times, clearly caught off guard by the sudden kiss. "Phil?"

"S-shut up. W-we're gonna be late, so let's go already."

Clint laughs and ruffles his neatly brushed hair. Too bad he doesn't care. "Yes, let's."

Phil pulls away and goes to collect his shoes while Clint fixes his hair a little.

"Oh wait! Before I forget!" Clint hurries into the living room and makes some rustling noises in the corner.

Phil's about to ask and suddenly a huge obnoxious bouquet of red roses is thrust into his face.

"For you," Clint says.

"What's the occasion?" Phil asks amusingly. He takes the bouquet and leans down to smell the roses.

"Nothing. Just wanted to say I love you," Clint shrugs.

Phil looks up from under his eyelashes. "That's all?"

"Yep, that's all."

"And there's… nothing _else_?"

"Nope." Clint rocks back on his heels and stares up at the ceiling.

"Clint—"

"Come on, come on. Didn't you say we were gonna be late?" Clint guides Phil by the waist to the door.

"Oh crap! You're right we gotta go!"

As Phil runs around gathering the last items, Clint stuffs his hand into his pocket and feels around for the ring.

Maybe that can wait until tonight, he decides.


	2. Took You Long Enough

Author's note: So I felt like I needed to do a little one-shot of Bucky and Steve and how they came to meet. And because I am a piece of trash, this has been sitting in my documents for like three months now because I was never happy with it and kept editing the crap out of it so then I just thought screw it, I'm positing this. So enjoy!

Summary: This is a story of a boy and a boy. Or two idiots who can't make up their minds.

* * *

><p>When Bucky put out the 'Help Wanted' sign for the <em>fifth time <em>this month, he wasn't expecting to get a reply right away.

He also wasn't expecting the guy to look like, well, _that_. That as in a perfect shoulder to waist ratio (he's reminded of a dorito chip for some reason), shoulders that make him wanna _do things to_, and those cheekbones damn. This guy is like, the epitome of perfection. It's hard not to stare, and it seems the other customers in the store all have the same thought process.

"Hi, um, I see you're hiring?"

"Huh?" Bucky says dumbly and shit is this guy talking to him?

"Um, your 'Help Wanted' sign?"

"Oh, right! Yes, I am looking. You got any papers or…?"

The guy rustles around in his bag and hands over his resume. "It's all here."

"Cool, thanks man." Bucky flips and skims through the papers. _Steven Grant Rogers, _the header reads. "Come on, walk with me." He jerks his head to a nearby table and pulls out a seat.

The guy sits opposite from him and folds his hands on top. Jesus even those hands are gorgeous. Bucky can tell how sturdy and lean they are, with callouses around the tips and perfectly trimmed nails.

"You a carpenter or something?" Bucky jokes.

Steven quirks the corner of his mouth up and shakes his head. "Artist. Well, sort of."

Bucky looks at his resume. "Wow, Tisch School of Arts? At NYU?" He reads further down and holy moly this guy has amazing credentials. He sees community service, art shows for his work, even student teaching. This guy really gets around. And with a body like that, he definitely _really gets around_.

"Wow, this is… this is amazing. You sure you wanna work at a dump like this?" Bucky flicks his wrist and spins his finger around the shop. Well, technically it's not as dumpy as before. God it was so much dumpier before. He's not surprised the place went under, and it was only through pure luck Bucky was able to find a benefactor and get this place going. It's definitely not as crowded as the Starbucks five blocks down, but as of now he's got a steady stream of customers and is making a decent amount of money. He doesn't have enough to employ a bunch of people, but he thinks in time he will.

But he can't handle all the work by himself. He needs a partner, someone really willing to work full-time. So he's a little surprised as to why an art major wants to work at a cafe.

Steven gives a half shrug and looks around. "It's not that dumpy."

"Well then you should have seen the place before this," Bucky snorts.

"I've heard the stories."

"Good. Then you're prepared." Bucky shuffles the papers and sets them aside. He leans forward and folds his hands. "As you can see, I really need some help around here. Remodeling's all done, so there's nothing to really worry about there. But I need someone to help with the baking, running the machines, paperwork, cleaning toilets, basically everything. It's gonna be a lot of work, and I don't doubt you can do it but some people have already backed out. I won't blame you if you do, but I'm saying you should be prepared Mr. Rogers."

"Please, call me Steve. As much as I don't mind my name, I'd rather not be associated with a children's show and sweaters and trollies."

Bucky actually laughs at that. Guy's got a sense of humor too.

"And don't worry about the workload. I'm used to working, so I don't think you really need to worry about that." Steve offers a reassuring smile, as if to say I won't back out on you like every other employee, trust me.

And Bucky… almost believes him. But he's been down that road before, so he doesn't completely put his full trust in the guy. Not yet, anyways.

"Well then," Bucky sticks a hand out, "Welcome to Barnes' Cafe. I look forward to working with you." He'll see what this guy can do.

* * *

><p>"Damn, dorito boy sure can work," Natasha murmurs as she eyes Steve up and down with interest.<p>

He's currently bent over so he can dust under the tables, and Bucky can just make out the way his shoulder blades pop out, the way his back muscles flex and unflex as he stretches. God it's like watching free porn.

"If he tore off his clothes that'd be even better," Bucky murmurs back. He has to stop himself from sighing dreamily or he'll never hear the end of it.

Steve stands up suddenly and turns around with a blush on his face. "I-I can hear you two from over here."

Bucky starts coughing violently while Natasha guffaws and slaps her leg.

"Trust me, it's all in good fun. Bucky here would totally turn gay for you." She jabs a finger into his shoulder which he slaps away.

"Stop it. Don't you have to go back to work?"

"Please, Phil won't mind if I'm not there for another 10 minutes."

"Yes, he _will!_" As if on cue Phil walks in and directs a withering look at the two of them.

"Coulson!" Bucky takes out a cup and sharpie which he twirls in his fingers. "Back for round 3 I see?"

Phil scoffs and leans his hip against the counter. "You're lucky you've got your boyish charm Barnes. And you, scoot!" He orders Nat and makes a shooing motion. "Go unload the new shipment of flowers."

She rolls her eyes and salutes. "On it boss." She winks at Bucky before making her way out.

"Just admit it. Nat obviously likes _me_ better."

Phil responds by throwing a crumpled up napkin at Bucky's forehead who easily avoids it.

"That all you got Coulson?"

"Don't test me."

Steve is found laughing on the side. God his laugh could even cure sick puppies and children with the way his whole face lights up and just radiates happiness throughout the room. Even the old grandmas by the window can't help staring in awe. _Bucky_ is in awe for crying out loud!

"Jesus… do that again," he breathes out in amazement.

Steve laughs again, this time with a little red rising in his cheeks and that just makes the sight even better, even more gorgeous.

Now Bucky has something else to stare at.

* * *

><p>"Just like this?"<p>

"Just like that," Bucky nods approvingly.

Steve smiles and goes back to frying the crepes. Steve, Bucky's noticed, is a fast learner. He picks things up quickly, which is very different from the past employees he's had.

It's also been one full week and Steve has yet to quit. The longest an employee ever went was five days. Usually they tried to stick it out, but then they realized how tough the job was and the resignation papers were found on the desk in his office the next day.

Steve carefully slips the crepe onto the spatula and flips it over. Nice and golden brown, just like it should be.

"Hey, looking good." Bucky claps him on the shoulder and revels in the shy smile spreading over Steve's features.

"Thanks," he mumbles embarrassingly.

Bucky laughs and knocks his shoulder. "You should be proud. My last guy, Mick, kept burning them that we had to forsake crepes from the menu completely."

"And how long did he last?" The frying pan sizzles and cracks as Steve lifts up the edges to check for any burnt spots.

"Three days."

"So I'm the exception then?"

Bucky smiles and leans against the nearby counter. "Indeed you are." He watches Steve place the finished crepe onto a plate. "Indeed you are," he repeats and whistles at the finished product. It looks perfect. It's the right color and not a burnt spot in sight.

Bucky reaches behind to grab a bag of powdered sugar and starts sprinkling it over the crepe. Then he spoons out some berries, wraps up the crepe and hands it to Steve.

Steve looks between the crepe and Bucky confused.

"You made it, you eat it," Bucky shrugs and pushes it into Steve's hands.

He tilts his head at the crepe (an action Bucky finds absolutely adorable), then bends down and takes a slow bite. He chews slowly and carefully, measuring out the taste in case he has to spit it out or something.

Eventually he swallows and Bucky studies the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down. Then his mind starts going in different directions and he has to shut it down before he does something stupid. Like stuffing his dick into Steve's mouth instead.

"Well?"

"It's.. it's good." Steve smiles and takes another eager bite.

"Save some for me you big lump." Bucky steps into Steve's space and takes a rather large bite. His eyes move up to the ceiling as he chews and judges the taste for himself.

"_Well?__" _

Bucky swallows and grins very very slowly. Steve fidgets while he waits for Bucky's response.

"Steven, I think we just found your speciality."

* * *

><p>Turns out the crepes are a big hit, and they sell out by lunch time and they have to make them all over again. Steve may have an artist's touch, but his hands are definitely magic.<p>

Steve denies any sort of so-called 'magic' but Bucky disagrees whole-heartedly. Nat too.

She moans and her eyes roll back as she takes her first bite. "My god, Steve, what have you done to me?" She says through a mouthful of crepe and whipped cream.

Steve laughs at the somewhat indecent and inappropriate sounds coming out of her mouth. She gets a few dirty stares from some people, but she hardly cares because the only thing needing her attention right now is that crepe in her hands.

"Are you two done making out or…?" Phil twirls a finger at her and the crepe.

"Phil, ohmygosh you have to try this."

Phil's about to protest but he gets whipped cream in his mouth instead. And some on his nose too. Bucky chuckles and sticks out a napkin to him.

"Simply orgasmic, right?" Nat says eagerly.

"It's messy," Phil grumbles while he wipes himself off. "But hey, this is really good guys. Seriously," he adds earnestly to the two of them.

Bucky and Steve exchange a victorious smile and high five each other.

"I'm gonna gain twenty pounds by the end of this year and it'll be all you guys' fault." Natasha leans in to take a bite but Phil holds it protectively against his chest.

"Oh no, this is mine now."

Nat fixes him with a cool look and says, in an icy tone, "Phil Coulson never, _EVER, _mess with the love between a woman and her food. I will kill you and then paint all your white flowers with the blood I drain from your body." Her face remains passive yet threatening, and even Steve shrinks back a little and the dude's huge.

"You wouldn't dare," Phil whispers in horror.

She raises a challenging eyebrow. "Watch me."

"Oh my god," Steve whispers and shrinks behind Bucky.

After that Phil never steals her food again and his white flowers remain spotless.

* * *

><p>Every once in a blue moon, and this is like a really blue moon, Bucky gets one of <em>those<em> customers. They'll bargain and haggle and try to squirm their way through to a deal, but Bucky never gives in. This is a business he's running, not some charity deal. His prices are very reasonable in comparison to Starbucks.

It's just some people are so cheap they can't fathom buying a $2 sandwich.

"Come on, bro, $1.50. I'll give you $1.50 for the panini."

"Um lemme think. _No,_"Bucky deadpans.

"It's two freakin dollars! For a panini!"

"The Starbucks five blocks from here sells them for three so take it or leave it."

The guy looks like he's about to give in, but Bucky's learned early on not to hold out too much hope for humanity. "$1.50."

"Dude, leave. Now. Go find your $1.50 panini somewhere else." Bucky grabs the panini out of his hands and tosses it back with the rest.

The guy throws up his hands in frustration and stalks out the door.

"You actually get _those _kinda customers?" Steve asks incredulously. He's cleaning out the creamer machine so Bucky didn't think he was really listening.

Bucky shrugs like it's not his fault. "Apparently $2 for a panini is outrageous to some people."

"….."

"You think I'm kidding but I'm not."

Steve shakes his head in disbelief and returns to cleaning out the machine.

"Bucky! Steve! Crepe me!"

Both men turn to see Natasha who has magically appeared out of nowhere. "Or lemon square or panini me or whatever it is you're selling right now."

Bucky groans. "Please, do not mention that god-awful word in my cafe."

Nat stops short from whatever it was she was about to say and blinks a few times.

"Panini's," Steve responds gravely. Her face still remains blank as she tries to process this.

Bucky leans in conspiratorially and says, "Panini's. Those goddam panini's. You can't trust them Nat. You see one and you run. You run and you never look back."

"Run Forrest, run!" Steve cries out in a small child-like voice.

Nat's mouth drops open a little but she still doesn't say anything.

"I'm telling you, it's those—"

"_Stop._" She holds out a hand and ignores their snickering. "I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear any of that so please return the James I know and somewhat love but is a pain in the ass—"

"Hey!"

"—I'm begging you, please return him."

"James?" Steve looks over quizzically at Bucky.

"Oh I didn't tell you? My real name's James, but everyone just calls me Bucky—"

"Am I just a sack of potatoes here or something?" Nat interrupts.

"Yes," Bucky answers immediately.

"Wait, with the red hair shouldn't it be _tomatoes _instead?" Steve wonders in thought.

"Oh yeah, that would make more sense." Bucky looks back at Nat who's half amused half about-to-punch-you-weirdos-in-the-face. "You're a sack of tomatoes then," he decides.

"I think I preferred the potatoes. I don't really like tomatoes." She makes a face at that.

If the other customers look at them weirdly, they don't pay them any mind.

* * *

><p>Bucky looks mournfully at the empty fridge. He's never seen it so empty before in his whole life. Steve appears beside him and he's about to ask, but then realization dawns on him and he starts to make the connection between the sad look and the empty fridge.<p>

"So I guess it's grocery shopping time huh?"

Bucky nods just as sadly and closes the fridge. Thankfully the clock reads 10 pm so they don't have to worry about any stray customers.

"I'll have to go out early tomorrow morning. Or tonight. I'll need half-and-half milk, chocolate syrup, bread…" Bucky starts ticking each one off his fingers that by the time he runs out he needs to find a pen and paper to jot this all down.

"I can go with you tonight," Steve offers.

"What?" Bucky whips his head around from searching the drawers for a notepad. "You serious?"

"Sure, I don't have anything else going on anyways. Probably just go home and pass out in front of my TV three hours later. But other than that, nothing." Steve shrugs and hangs up his apron on the hook.

"Um."

"Bucky, seriously, it's no big deal."

Bucky chews the inside of his cheek. He could really use the help, but then again he doesn't wanna keep Steve away from the comforts of his home. What if he has pets? Or a girlfriend or boyfriend to get back to? Bucky's okay because he doesn't have that sorta thing in his life (or any life for that matter), but what about Steve?

He's too distracted to realize a finger is continuously poking his cheek. That finger belonging to Steve specifically.

"Hey!" Bucky swats his hand away and Steve laughs when he finally notices. He feels his cheeks heat up and scowls. Steve's still laughing and it's really hard not to stay mad.

"And don't forget. I'm your _only_ employee," Steve points out.

"Doesn't mean you should give up your free time to do this," Bucky retorts.

"Doesn't mean I mind," Steve shoots back.

They stare at each other for a while. Steve's got this cheeky smile plastered on because he already knows he's won but Bucky just prefers to be stubborn and give him a hard time.

Eventually he sighs and tuts at Steve. "Man, I really think I should consider the amount of pay you get."

Steve gasps in mock horror. "You wouldn't."

"Oh I would." Bucky smirks and starts walking backwards. "You have noooo idea what I can do Steve Rogers. Absolutely _none_."

* * *

><p>Going grocery shopping at 11 pm is more interesting than Bucky would expect.<p>

For one thing, he didn't think any stores would be open around this time, but then again it's New York and if you can't find one store you can always fine another one. And it's actually kinda fun. Going grocery shopping. With Steve. Who is just an employee and nothing more.

_Right, keep telling yourself that Barnes_.

"So what else did we need from the list?" Steve asks. Since he's technically Bucky's grunt, he's the one pushing the cart while Bucky supervises.

"Um, strawberries. And baking soda." Bucky plops a bunch of bananas in the cart and grabs some milk on the way.

"Oh, wait here!" Steve reaches in front of Bucky to grab the half-and-half. Bucky stills his breathing as Steve leans out of his space and brushes his elbow against his.

"R-right, almost forgot," he mumbles.

"Well then it's a good thing I'm here, right?" Steve grins and pushes onward.

He needs something to distract himself or he seriously really is gonna do something incredibly stupid. "So, uh, tell me about yourself," Bucky decides on.

Steve looks at him like he grew another head and chuckles. "I didn't realize the interview was still going on."

"It's not. This is more for.. personal preferences."

"Personal preferences, huh?" Goddammit Steve's face is so suggestive and Bucky wants to die of shame because that was NOT WHAT HE WAS AIMING FOR.

"S-shut up! I didn't mean it like that!" He blushes furiously and shoves a bag of oranges into Steve's arms.

"I thought oranges weren't on the list..?"

"Just shut your yapper, alright?" He glares at the oranges and stuffs his hands into his sweatshirt pockets.

After a while he hears a soft chuckle from Steve. "I grew up in Brooklyn, but then we moved to DC."

"We?" Bucky tries to sound conversational but he's still so freakin embarrassed.

"Yeah, me and my parents. I'm an only child, but then my dad kinda… left and my mom passed away a year ago. So I came back to New York. Figured there was nothing for me in DC anymore." Steve directs his back towards Bucky and starts comparing melons. Only Bucky knows better because he knows Steve's just trying to hide from him and it's not working.

"Melons aren't on the list."

Steve's shoulders hitch up like he got caught stealing. "M-maybe I wanted some."

"Uh-huh." When he doesn't turn around Bucky grabs his arm and forces him to face Bucky, only Steve ends up tripping and he has to grab the cart handle to steady himself. Bucky keeps a firm grasp on Steve's arm and places a hand on his chest to stop the guy from falling onto Bucky. This results in their faces being only a couples inches apart and to the public's eye it looks like Steve is bending down for a kiss.

Bucky's eyes are immediately drawn to Steve lips and he gulps. It'd be so easy, just to lean forward and close that gap between them. The blush on Steve's face seems to agree and he gulps too.

"Hey," Steve breathes out in a low voice.

This forces Bucky's attention up and away from Steve's lips which are really nice and pink at the moment. "Oh. I didn't know your eyes were blue."

"It comes with the package."

Bucky snorts and pushes some hair out of Steve's face. "Does this package come with a life-time warranty?"

Steve hums and thinks for a moment. "That depends."

"On what exactly?" Bucky smirks and leans in closer.

"On if you'd be willing to let me take you out on a date." Steve smiles and brushes his lips against Bucky's.

* * *

><p>The grocery shopping gets done, the fridge is stocked up, and everyone is happy.<p>

But now Bucky has no idea where he and Steve stand.

* * *

><p>The kiss goes unmentioned between them for the next couple days. But they'll exchange these… looks. Like there's this secret only they know and can't share with the world.<p>

They also start getting a little… touchy. Steve will use any chance to poke Bucky's arm, brush his hand against his, pat him on the back, etc. Bucky likes to go with the 'oops I accidentally bumped into you lemme help you with that' and then proceeds to place a very suggestive hand on Steve's hips. It's cute because it makes Steve squirm and blush and Bucky likes cute.

"I sense a shift in the air," Phil observes and eyes them suspiciously.

"I swear, there's no shift," Bucky says while making eye contact with Steve across the room who blushes and waves awkwardly.

"Uh-huh." Phil nods but with that tone it's clear he doesn't believe him.

Even Bucky doesn't really believe himself.

* * *

><p>Nat makes a comment one day about Bucky and Steve looking really good together. Bucky just interprets it as them working well together, which is true. They rarely fight, and if they do they're petty disagreements which can be resolved in the next five seconds.<p>

Steve, on the other hand, reacts very differently.

"You're blushing, you know that?" Bucky asks.

Steve starts coughing violently and puts a lot of effort into mopping the floor.

"Oh, now what's this?" Nat gets that 'I know you're up to something' look on her face.

"N-nothing," Steve mumbles. "I-it's nothing at all." And he doesn't say anything more for the rest of the afternoon. He does keep blushing though every time he bumps into Bucky while working. Bucky may have been doing that on purpose. All in good fun of course.

* * *

><p>"So when are you gonna ask Steve out?" Natasha asks like they're talking about the weather or something. Phil chokes on his coffee and Bucky is trying very hard to fight a blush off his face.<p>

"You know you can't just ask that out of the blue for no reason," Phil chastises.

"Why would I wanna ask Steve out?" Bucky asks with as neutral an expression as he can manage. And besides, why does _he_ have to be the one to do it? Steve kissed him first! Which, might he add, they still haven't done anything about.

"Because it's obvious he has a crush on you and you seem to have a lot of interest in him too," she simply answers and sips her coffee.

"He's hot, what can I say?" Bucky deadpans. "Anyone would wanna tap _that.__" _He gives a pointed look at Steve taking orders from a group of teenagers. And they're _all_ staring at him like they wanna eat him up as badly as Bucky does.

"And anyways, what makes you think Rogers has a crush on me?"

"Ever since he started blushing and staring at you like you're the moon?" Phil responds instead.

Bucky stares at the two of them and just wow. Wow. They are both ganging up on him.

"I would agree," Nat says with all seriousness.

"And I second that."

"Hey, Bucky? Could you give me a hand with these orders?" Steve asks from the other side of the room. His knight in shining armor and glorious muscles.

"Yes! Coming, I would _love_ to help." Bucky gives them one last look and leaves them to their own fantasies.

* * *

><p>With Steve's cautious and careful approach to just about everything, nothing will ever get accomplished. So that means it's up to Bucky, who sidles right up next to Steve and crosses his arms. "So when are you taking me on that date Mr. Rogers?"<p>

Steve almost drops the gallon of milk he's holding and flushes a very bright red. The customer waiting for her order gives them an amused look.

"U-um.. well.. uh…" Steve racks his mind while he tries to concentrate on making this _very complicated_ drink.

Bucky rolls his eyes and takes over for Steve, filling the cup with milk and coffee and adding the right amount of cream.

"It's just a latte Steve," Bucky teases and hands it over to the woman.

"I-I know how to make a latte Bucky," Steve mumbles and ducks his head down.

"Oh no, I don't doubt you or anything. But I'm starting to doubt whether or not you'll actually take me on that date." Bucky lifts himself up onto the counter and swings his legs back and forth. Work is really slow right now, so they can afford to relax for a bit.

And besides, this conversation is long overdue.

Steve looks away guiltily. "I have been meaning to ask you."

"When? When I'm 95?"

"I was! Really I—I was." Steve leans his back against the wall and puts his hands behind his back.

"You know you really threw me for a loop there. With the flirting and the kissing in the grocery store."

"It wasn't 'kissing.' It was just a kiss," Steve corrects.

"Well no need to be a know-it-all or anything." But there's no venom laced in his voice, just pure affection. Bucky sighs and hops down. He looks straight into Steve's eyes and makes sure to hold it for as long as possible.

Long as possible being Steve growing uncomfortable and eventually heaving out a sigh. "God you're… you're such a jerk, you know that?"

Bucky makes exaggerated noises of surprise. "Well _excuse you_." As an afterthought he says, "Punk."

Steve huffs out a laugh and suddenly grabs Bucky by the waist. Bucky yelps and looks around frantically to make sure no one is watching. As of now, no Natasha or Phil in sight so all is good.

"Okay, so this is me asking you out on a date," Steve states gravely.

"Really now?" Bucky waggles his eyebrows and brings their chests closer.

"Really."

"And where are you taking me?"

Steve bites his lip and scrunches up his face in thought. "I haven't decided yet. I just know I wanna take you out."

Bucky hums and stands on his tiptoes. "I would like that _very_ much," he whispers and bumps their noses.

"I think I would too." And of course Steve has to have the last word with that stupid shit-eating grin on his face, swooping in and stealing a kiss which _Bucky_ was planning on all along. It lasts about a minute because—

"Well FINALLY!"

"It's about damn time…"

Steve and Bucky jump away from each other to see Natasha and Phil on the other side of the counter. Phil is slowly clapping while Nat has this smug-ass look on her face.

"You _guys_," Bucky groans and hides his face in Steve's shoulder.

He feels Steve's body shake with a low-sounding laugh. "I think I'm starting to like your friends Buck."

"No, don't say that it'll only boost their egos."

* * *

><p>"No Steve you cannot take me out on a date to the <em>place where we work<em> _24/7_!"

"What?! It's convenient, not to mention—"

"Steve. _NO._"

* * *

><p>"So, uh, I have a proposition," Bucky starts off nervously. There's a rustling noise behind his back which Steve eyes suspiciously.<p>

"Okay..?"

"I was thinking we could.. change the name. Of the cafe."

"Barnes' Cafe suddenly not good enough for you?" Steve asks in amusement.

"Yes, because it's all about _me_." Bucky rolls his eyes and reveals what he was hiding behind his back. "Just… take a look."

There's a single piece of paper in his hands which Steve accepts with slight apprehension. He skims through the top and finally gets to the important parts. Which he has to re-read. And then re-read again. Right across the paper are the words _R&B Cafe_. As in Rogers and Barnes.

"You.. are you serious? You're renaming the shop?"

Bucky rolls his eyes again. "No Steve, I'm not. When am I ever serious about anything?"

"You want.. to use my name?" Steve asks a little breathlessly.

"Well _yeah_," Bucky replies like it's obvious.

"But… why…?"

"Well you see, there's this guy I like. Kind of a punk. _Still_ hasn't taken me out on an actual real date yet. But we've made a lot of progress, and I'd like to continue that and see where it takes us," Bucky answers with all honesty. He is determined to win this fight, even if he has to drag Steve kicking and screaming. Because he wants this, and he _knows_ Steve wants this too.

"Yeah.. yeah okay," Steve answers finally. "We could—we can. Do that." He gives a teary smile to Bucky and fuck is this guy really getting emotional now?!

"Uh, Steve. It's just.. it's just changing the name, nothing more." Bucky fidgets uncomfortably. There are still customers in the store.

"I know, I know," Steve laughs. "I'm just.. really touched by this Bucky, really. I—thank you." He stands up and presses a light kiss onto Bucky's cheek. It carries enough meaning for Bucky to understand: Thank you, and I think I really really REALLY like you.

"A-alright already… punk," Bucky mumbles to the ground.

Steve laughs at his embarrassment and just for good measure, plants another kiss on the other side of Bucky's now red cheek.

"You know, maybe I'll just keep the name as it is."

"_Bucky!"_

* * *

><p>A month later, after Bucky's managed to change the cafe's name and sort through all the paperwork, does Steve FINALLY take him on a date.<p>

The details of that date will be left for another time, but let's just say Bucky was very impressed and the waiting was totally worth it.


End file.
